


Starting Path

by yeaka



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet, Light Bondage, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3178976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy comes home to a present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpesAbrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpesAbrin/gifts).



> A/N: I know zero about Marvel beyond this show and don’t britpick. Endless thanks to Abbeyjewel for betaing for me.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Agent Carter or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s almost suspiciously quiet in her apartment. When Peggy opens the door, she half expects to find Angie waiting on the chair by the coat rack. It’s her day off, after all, and this is one those rare boring days where Peggy’s actually home on time, so why shouldn’t her biggest fan be ready and waiting in her rooms?

As Peggy kicks off her heels, she realizes that it isn’t _quite_ so silent; years of military training give her the precision to pick up the rhythm of someone’s breathing, spiked now in anticipation. Peggy hangs up her hat, shivers out of her jacket, and strolls around the wall into the bedroom, half knowing what to expect.

She finds Angie there, of course, but the other half is something rigorously _new_.

While Peggy stands, frozen in the doorway, Angie squirms in her direction, grinning with coy enthusiasm. Angie’s long arms are stretched above her head, delicate wrists bound, in many loops of a familiar silk scarf, to the headboard. Her curled chestnut hair is unpinned around the pillows, covering one elbow and slipping down her shoulders, brushed just above her breasts. Peggy’s eyes take a moment to rove hungrily down the rest; Angie isn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Her beautiful body is spread out on Peggy’s mattress, trim waist curving as one creamy thigh slides over the other, helping Angie’s body arch forward in Peggy’s direction. With a smooth, nearly casual voice, Angie purrs, “Welcome home, English.”

Somewhere, in the midst of all her awe and delight, Peggy says, “Don’t you think that’s rather dangerous?” Angie snorts, and laughs, but then, she still doesn’t know what Peggy does or how Peggy’s last roommate came to an end. Lying naked and bound in Peggy’s quarters, squirming and wanton, isn’t at all safe, no matter how... alluring... it is to come home to. Angie’s long fingers twist around the makeshift rope, giving it a little tug that draws her arms taut and makes her bite her lip.

“I tied it myself,” she says, voice husky and thick—lord only knows how long she’s been here, and what’s she’s spent the time fantasizing about—“I could probably get out of it if I had to.” Her warm eyes lift to Peggy as she murmurs, “But I’d rather that be in _your_ hands.” Peggy, routed on the spot, quite agrees.

She wants to stay and soak in the sight: what a _gorgeous_ picture Angie makes, and how sweet it is to have such an eager girlfriend, always dying to please. But her feet can’t take the distance, and her body pulls her forward, tugged by some feral attraction to all of Angie’s soft curves and flushed skin. It’s just warm enough in the apartment to be comfortable naked, but Angie’s little, rosy nipples are still peaked and pebbled in the open air. Her young breasts rise up in invitation, perky and ripe and shifting with each of Angie’s ragged breath, drawn out by arousal. Her thighs are together to the knees, squirming just slightly, probably trying to rub herself in the wake of Peggy’s attention. Peggy comes to the side of the bed, ogling every little bit of exposed skin, and sits down, the weight of her rear dipping the mattress and rolling Angie closer.

Angie teases, “Come on, English. Don’t make me wait all night to hear if you like it.”

Peggy just smiles her rouged lips, then reaches a hand out to cup the side of Angie’s face, thumb stroking over her cheek and catching a stray eyelash. There’s no need to make a wish as she brushes it away; she already has everything she could hope for. Angie, always eager, turns to kiss Peggy’s palm, then nips like the alluring little tramp she is. Peggy chuckles but pulls her hand away.

She thinks of stripping down herself, pulling loose the scarf and tucking them both beneath the blankets, but then, it would be rude to ignore such a gift. Angie obviously put risk into this, stealing away into Peggy’s quarters after hours, straining to bind herself and bravely leaving herself vulnerable. As Angie moans, “Peggy, come on,” Peggy finds her control slipping away.

It’s not as if the power dynamics don’t appeal to her, anyway. She spends all her work hours trying to claw her way up from the bottom of the barrel, the rest of society battering her down at every chance. She misses _power_ , sometimes, misses control of others. And Angie submitted herself willingly, however ignorant of Peggy’s true strength. Peggy’s hand, subconsciously lifted to the top of her blouse, falls away. No. She’s going to stay dressed. She’ll have that right while Angie has nothing, and the very thought makes her shiver, hips shifting into action.

She stretches to all fours like a cat—it’s been too long since she’s had a really _wild_ romp in bed, though Angie’s certainly a lively one. Peggy just didn’t know she was _kinky_ too. This opens the door to so many other things that Peggy will have to ask—and wouldn’t that be a nice way to come home from work, a perfect place to unload all her stress? She stalks around Angie’s body to kneel between Angie’s legs, which part so readily for her, thighs opening as wide as they can in ardent invitation. Peggy runs her red nails along Angie’s knees, noting the quick gasp it earns, then ducks beneath them. She lifts Angie’s legs, bends them back, pushing them until they lie flat along Angie’s stomach, almost crushing her breasts, and Angie groans, toes curling in the air. Peggy’s tempted to grab more scarves, or anything, really, that can serve as rope, and tie her up in every way imaginable. But there’ll be time for that later, and for now she simply holds Angie’s thighs back and orders, “Hold them there.”

Angie breathes, “Yes, Ma’am.” It sounds half like a tease, and half like erotic approval. The new position exposes her even more, shows off everything between her legs, the lush curves of her ass pink against the sheets and the fur-matted lips of her entrance glistening in excitement. She’s already flushed and looks already moist, but Peggy runs her hand slowly up to test, finger pads grazing through the dark hair and warm flesh. She’s wet between the seams, and when Peggy presses one finger to either side and coaxes it gently open, she can see the little nub of Angie’s clit straining at the top. Angie whimpers, a _delicious_ sound, and tries to push her rear up, but she doesn’t have the body strength to hold it. Her thighs quiver in the air, struggling to obey Peggy’s command. Peggy uses one palm to stroke at one leg while the other lightly fingers the edges of Angie’s slit, testing just how ready it is.

Angie moans instantly, “ _Peggy._ ” The dropped nickname lets Peggy know just how far-gone her girlfriend really is, and she rubs her hand soothingly between Angie’s upheld thighs as she scoots back in the mattress, clambering into place.

She takes her time just to drive her lover wild. Angie whimpers again at being left, whines and squirms. When Peggy glances up her body, her hands are tugging at their bonds, obviously not as easy to untie as she thought. But Angie makes no request to be set free. She only writhes in place like a waiting sex-bomb and breathes little wisps of Peggy’s name.

Peggy lowers down along the bed, body twisted to make room, and uses both her thumbs to pry Angie open. The soft, pink-red insides glimmer up at her, the stench of arousal thick through both their perfume. Peggy tosses her hair over her shoulders to keep it out of the way, then opens her mouth, darting forward.

With no pretense, she presses her tongue right into the middle of the open cavern, making Angie jolt and gasp, lips convulsing in Peggy’s grasp. Peggy soothes them with her thumbs, rubs at them even as she holds them open, and she runs her tongue hard up the middle, soaking in the heady taste and heavy aroma. When she gets to the top, she presses hard into the little tip of Angie’s clit, making Angie spasm around her in a fit of whines. Angie’s legs break free, bending back over Peggy’s shoulders, heels digging down through Peggy’s blouse. Obviously, if they’re going to forgo full restraints, Angie’s going to need more training. But not right now, on the first round, while Peggy is just slowly exploring her present. Angie’s thighs squeeze at Peggy’s head, trying to pull her in closer, so she has to stop and push them open before her mouth moves on.

She laps at Angie’s clit several times, first hard and fast then slow and steady, before she seals her lips around it, burrowing in as deep as she can. With the scratch of Angie’s short, dark curls around her nose, Peggy sucks the bud in her mouth. It makes obscene, wet noises that she draws out over and over, suckling away while Angie trembles in her grasp, trying weakly to hump Peggy’s face, but she doesn’t seem to have the strength. Normally, Angie’s hands would be in Peggy’s hair by now, petting, stroking, holding onto her and shoving her down, but now Angie’s own game restrains her. She’s trapped, helpless while Peggy gives no mercy, just licks and sucks until Angie’s poor clit is raw and throbbing in her mouth, and she lets it go to devour the rest of Angie’s opening.

Peggy eats all of it. She laps at the inner walls, shoving her tongue as far as it can go and worming it around, trying to poke and prod at everything. She nips and sucks wherever she can, fiercely ravaging Angie’s insides to wrack every last moan she can out of Angie’s perfect body. In amidst the pleasured turmoil, Angie gasps something about how this was supposed to be for _Peggy’s_ pleasure, but Peggy’s having just as much fun tearing Angie apart. Peggy’s already hot and wet from the sight she walked in on, the sounds and smell and feel and _taste_ of Angie’s body. But she’s planning on going a lot longer than one round, so it doesn’t particularly bother her when she hears Angie scream her way to the end, hips jerking suddenly up into Peggy’s face.

Peggy can tell when Angie comes undone. Her orgasm rips through her body, tenses and loosens her, makes her thighs shake and her voice go hoarse as she tosses her head back, gasping in bliss. Peggy pulls back to watch, wiping her chin off on the back of one hand. The other stays to work Angie as Peggy drapes over her, still fully clothed and cooing praise. Angie is always so _beautiful_ in the throes of an orgasm, and Peggy feels honoured to watch.

She messily kisses the side of Angie’s lips as Angie comes down, letting Angie mumble, “That was... amazing...”

Peggy sighs, “That was only the beginning,” and pecks Angie’s cheek before she pulls away, off to collect the supplies for round two.


End file.
